


Maneuvers

by Telesilla



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-11
Updated: 2005-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ewan will take what he can get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maneuvers

Ewan is bored.

He sits, picking at the label of his overpriced beer, and wishes he were at home watching telly or down to his local having decently priced beer with his mates or ... hell, he wouldn't even mind being in the office, as tedious as that often is.

But Jude likes this club. He likes having a place to wear the clothes he spends too much money on and drink the drinks he can't quite afford. He likes dancing, likes throwing himself around on the dance floor with an inherently sexual abandon that catches the eye of every woman in the place and at least half the men.

And he likes tormenting Ewan.

Jude kisses girls and glances sidelong to make sure Ewan is looking. He disappears for a time and then comes back from the gents rubbing his nose and looking right at Ewan with a cocky little smirk. He leads other men on, flirting with those boys who, like Jude, define the whole metrosexual look. And then he dashes their hopes, while his glance at Ewan makes it clear that he could have had this one or that one.

Jude's doing it right now, telling some silly bint a wild tale that's probably a lot funnier if you've just done a line. As it is, Ewan can feel himself moving from boredom to irritation as Jude throws him a look that invites Ewan to laugh at both the girl and the joke. Scowling, Ewan does neither.

_I should just bloody well get up and leave._

He won't, though. He never does.

He just sits here getting progressively more annoyed and staying sober because he'd sooner kill himself than let Jude buy his drinks for him. Every once in a while one of the glittering people who surround Jude notices Ewan, at which point Jude says that Ewan's a mate from work. Somehow the words and Jude's tone of voice imply that Ewan fetches afternoon tea or brings the post to Jude in his office and that he's only here tonight because Jude feels sorry for him. In fact, they're both junior copywriters at a stodgy advertising firm where Ewan, simply by virtue of seniority, earns more than Jude does.

Not that anyone cares, because the other thing that Jude implies in that offhand voice of his is that "work" is the ultimate four letter word, and that mentioning it is like mentioning death or taxes at a tea party. He'll tactfully steer the conversation elsewhere, leaving Ewan fuming and more than a little embarrassed.

And just when Ewan's a second away from finally getting up and leaving, Jude is suddenly alone, his flock of admirers gone. "C'mon," he says. "I want to get out of here."

Ewan always drives because he has a car, and they go back to Ewan's place because he has his own flat and no roommates. Sometimes they make it all the way to the bedroom, but usually they end up in the narrow little entryway or on the sofa, where Ewan fucks Jude with a sort of sullen desperation. He's always rough, and more often than not leaves finger marks on Jude's hips, or bite marks on Jude's shoulders.

And Jude takes it silently, enduring what Ewan is sure Jude thinks of as some kind of punishment. Sometimes Ewan wants to tell Jude that it doesn't have to be like this, or even show Jude that he can be gentle and make it good for both of them.

But no. If Jude wanted it like that, he wouldn't goad Ewan as perfectly as he does, as he has since that very first time eight months ago. If Jude wanted Ewan to be a nice caring bloke, he'd act like _he_ cared, like Ewan mattered to him.

Every time it happens -- which is usually at least once a fortnight --Ewan swears that he's not doing this again. But the oath is as rote as everything else in his life, and Ewan knows, as he watches Jude zip up and let himself out, that the next time Jude comes up to Ewan's desk and invites him out, Ewan will go.

Someday, he supposes, he'll have to admit to himself that he needs it to be like this as much as Jude does.

Or maybe ... he won't.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [](http://helens78.livejournal.com/profile)[**helens78**](http://helens78.livejournal.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Haunted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859) by [kyuuketsukirui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuuketsukirui/pseuds/kyuuketsukirui)




End file.
